


Fencing, Flying, and Freedom

by lucky_little_daffodil



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Derogatory Language, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, My First Fanfic, leaving abusive relationships, past abusive relationships, set after end of S1, tell me if I forgot to tag anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_little_daffodil/pseuds/lucky_little_daffodil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Athos showed up at her door, Constance didn't know what to expect certainly not fencing lessons and a mysterious plan to get her away from her husband. She just wishes that he wouldn't keep bringing more musketeers to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Musketeer

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on here. YAY. I am afraid the romantic relationships don't get a lot of attention in this. They are mostly going to be background. Fair warning.

* * *

Constance grabbed the bundle of blue fabric off the shelf. She had to pull one of the stools over in the room to stand on just to reach it. She measured the fabric off on the work table and then began to trace the pattern out. She thought of nothing but her task. She did not wonder whose uniform this particular few yards of fabric would belong to. She did not ponder over how the cut would fit them. She did not question how long the uniform would last them given the difficulties of musketeer life and the reckless behavior that plagued them. She did not image them there in their fine new uniform standing in the doorway. She did not see worry or concern in their eyes as their gaze fell to her exposed wrist, a blue circling it almost matching the fabric she worked over. But while the fabric was vibrant, the bruise was muted and tinted yellow at the edges. It was an ugly comparison and Constance pulled her sleeve down to hide it though she still remained the only one in the room no matter where her thoughts took her.

The sun was coming through the windows brightly and she still had a lot to do today. She had no time for distractions or pity. Her movements were precise and steady. When there was a knocking at the door it did not started her, and she did not image it was anyone special when she went to answer it. She knew it was one of her neighbors calling for some silly nonsense, or Fleur coming to tell her about the new book she was reading. Constance would enjoy that though. Fleur always got so excited over her books, it was a pleasure to watch her face light up over them. She pulled the door open to find a musketeer standing before her.

That did startle her. Athos removed his hat and bowed shortly, “Good evening, Madam Bonacieux.”

“Is he hurt? Did something happen? He is hurt isn’t he? That idiot!” it was all said in a rush and the last part held a sob in it.

“No!” Athos quickly replied reaching out to her but stopping short of touching her arm. “No, D’Artagnan is fine. He was training with Aramis when I left the garrison.”

“Oh, that’s good then,” Constance replied.

They stared at each other for a minute.

“May I come in?”

“Oh yes. Come right in Athos.”

They came into the parlor, full of bright light much like the work room. She then waited for the musketeer to state his business. Athos just stood there a moment, his glaze intense and unsettling. What he was trying to gleam from such a close study Constance couldn’t guess. Just as she was about to ask if she had grown a second noes, he finally spoke.

“I came to formally apologize.”

Constance brows knitted with confusion. “You lot rarely do that. What brought this on?”

Athos decked his head. He smirked, though he did look ashamed somewhat. “I came to apologies for allowing you to be kidnapped.”

“You didn’t know that would happen.” “I should have. Milady is my wife. I know her. I should have at least thought of the possibility, but I didn’t. And because of that you were put in danger. And what’s worse is when we found out you were missing, I being single minded not only refused to put two and two together, but insisted that you were to be put out of mind until the mission was complete.”

His face was serious now and his intense eyes were trained at her once more. There was always something tragic in those eyes. Constance could see he truly believed he had a part in her misfortune that day and her heart broke for him.

“You can’t go around apologizing for everything that woman did. Besides you had no reason to believe I was in danger.”

“I did Constance. I know her,” he simply repeated.

“If you really feel you must be forgiven then I promise Athos you are.”

A small smile slipped on his face for a moment. He looked relived. “Then you’ll let me do something for you, to apologize?”

“Don’t be silly Athos, words are enough.”

“My wife had you kidnaped, held hostage, and threatened to kill you,” he stated dryly. “ ‘I’m sorry’ hardly begins to make amends.”

“That is a hard one to come back from.” They both laugh a little at that. Constance realized that this small quiet laugh was the first she had had in weeks.

“You really can’t apologize for what she did, Athos. That’s not right.”

“Humor me.”

Constance smiled, “Well there isn’t anything that needs done around the house if that what your hoping for. The shutters in the kitchen were broken, but I managed to fix that myself.”

“D’Artagnan was teaching you to fence before…he became so busy. I taught him. I could teach you.”

Constance felt a little cold at that. She had to give fencing up, just like she had to give up the garcon that was teaching her. She couldn’t do that again. The idea of it was a sharp pain in chest. She shook her head, “No I don’t need any of that. It’s not proper for a lady.”

“I heard you enjoyed it, and had acquired some skill. I do not think it would be proper for such hard work to go to waste.”

“I really can’t, Athos.” His eyes flicked to her sleeve that had risen without her noticing and her hand went to cover it without thought.

“If you are worried about you husband then bring Fleur. Being with her provides an alibi, and I can teach you both.”

“What is this really about Athos? You don’t like me, so why are you here.” That wasn’t kind, or even true. Athos looked a little like he had been slapped and Constance wonder when she had become cruel. If perhaps she had always been cruel, and if that did not explain why bad things continued to happen to her. She had begun to wonder if she did not deserve them as all bad people do. That is what she had been taught as a child after all. Do bad things, and you will be punished for them.

“I have always liked you Constance. I am not always good at liking people, but I liked you from the moment I met you. That is probably why I have been so particularly cautious in showing that regard, but I will make it clear now. I find you to be a very kind, strong minded person who I am glad to name among my friends. And I cannot stand by and watch my friends be hurt or misused, not even by their spouses,” Athos voice that had been so steady shook then, but he added calmly, “Especially by their spouses.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Her voice shook as his had.

“The bruise on your arm could only be caused by someone grabbing it far too roughly.”

“That was an accident. He didn’t mean to. He was mad he just didn’t realize how strong he is.”

“Your husband shouldn’t lay a hand on you in anger.”

“It was only once Athos. It’s not going to happen again.” Her denial sounded weak even to her own ears.

“But it not the only thing he has done.” When Constance opened her mouth to deny it he cut her off. “He puts you down every day in a thousand little ways that make you feel like little more than a disgusting rat in the gutter. Such small ways you don’t even realize half the time what he has done. And it leaves you feeling weak and hopeless. You feel pathetic that you could ever let one person have such power over you. That you could let someone hurt you in such a way. Still you find yourself believing him, and that hurts all the worse, because what if he is right? Then you have no right to ask for better treatment. Your very perception of yourself is a reflection of his, and you’ve stopped thinking you dissevered any better. And he knows this Constance; he believes it just as you do. That’s why I can promise he will continue hurting you, because he does not see anything wrong with what he is doing.”

Constance felt tears stinging her eyes. How had he read her like that? Known things she hadn’t even told herself. His face was ashen and his own eyes bright. There was something in his face she couldn’t read, no wouldn’t read. Something that hurt too much to realize was written there in his eyes. Constance turned her back to him finally crying.

“Things won’t change unless you change them. You deserve for them to change Constance. You deserve to be happy. He is wrong. The way he treats you is wrong.”

Her voice was empty when she found it, “You go too far Athos. I must ask you to leave now.”

“Constance?”

“I said to leave!” She heard his footsteps as he turned to do just that. She heard them made their way to the door and then stopped. “Come to the abandoned church east of the market Wednesday at noon. I will wait for you there.”

And then he left.


	2. Chapter Two

 Constance had had a lot of time to think over what Athos had said. It was entirely too easy to do her chores around the house and let her mind wander. Her thoughts always fell back to what he had said. Sometimes she felt herself boil up with rage at Athos, at d’Artagnan, at all the musketeers. She had been happy till that lot had fallen in to her life, or if nothing else she had not been aware of how miserable she truly was. Sometimes she felt angry at herself for what she knew was holding her back from taking up Athos’s offer. She was scared. Scared that if she allowed herself this joy it would be ripped away from her like before. She could not bear for that again, to know freedom and then be left with none. If she were entirely truthful she would admit that fencing reminded her too much of d’Artagnan whom she could never have. She was even more afraid of what she would do if she saw him again. How badly would that hurt to look at his face and see that sad longing again? How much worse not to see it at all? If she were to continue on with her life she had to avoid that pain and temptation. Besides, what did Athos expect to come of teaching her to fence in the first place? It was not like she could get a commission in the king’s musketeers like the others had. Learning to fence would not take her away from her husband. She was stuck with him, and she had learned she was better off making peace with that.

Still on Wednesday she found herself marching with a very confused Fleur in tow down to the church. Of all places to teach someone to fence, a church, leave it to a musketeer to think of something so stupid. And she would tell him how stupid she thought it was too. How stupid all of it was. That was why she was going, because she was still angry at him and wanted to get the last word in.

“Weren’t we supposed to being going to the market?”

“We are just after this.”

As the church came into view so did Athos and Porthos by his side in the run down church yard. Porthos grinned widely when he saw her and Athos did smile slightly, though a worried look came over him when he had the chance to take in her features. “Good evening ladies. I’m glad you decided to come, Constance.”

“A house of god is no place to teach someone how to fight,” she replied with venom.

“She has a point.”

“I was admittedly only thinking of discretion when I thought of this place. Given time I’m sure I could find somewhere more suitable, if you find its former occupation a problem.”

“I find all of this a problem, Athos. What do you expect to come of teaching me how to fight really? What good could come of it? What is the purpose of all this?”

“You enjoy it. It makes you happy. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Constance was at a loss for words. “Constance what’s going on?”

“I own Constance a favor, and I thought I could return it by helping her continue her study of fencing,” Athos replied still holding Constance gaze.

“You’ve been learning to fence? That’s wonderful, Constance. You must be good at it to have a musketeer willing to teach you,” Constance could see Fleur was already enraptured at the adventure of it all.

“Oh she’s good,” Porthos answered grinning.

“Well if Aramis is to be believed. And usual I say not when a pretty face is involved, but Constance here has him minding his peas and queues.”

“That’s him behaving himself?” Constance was taken aback by this knowledge as well as the complements she didn’t feel she really deserved. “What is he doing here anyway? You didn’t mention he would be coming. Do you plain of having the whole garrison here next time?”

“So you do intend to continue your studies! That’s wonderful!” Fleur was positively beaming and Porthos began to as well. Of course those two would get along.

“I know that d’Artagnan had begun teaching you fencing and how to shoot but I don’t believe he has taught you anything about hand to hand combat. I think it would help greatly to improve your fencing.” Well that wasn’t a subtle lie in the slightest. Porthos had been giving her little odd glances as if he were looking for something this whole time. Now it seem obvious he was looking for more bruises like the one Athos had clearly told him about. She would have said something about that, if Fleur hadn’t been standing right there.

“Can I learn too?” Fleur blurted out suddenly. That caused Porthos to laugh as Fleur continued beaming. And just like that Constance knew she was losing the argument before it had truly begun.

“Of course Mademoiselle, it was always my intention to teach you as well,” Athos said his lips curling up slightly. Constance was left wondering if this was his plan all along, to lure her in with her one weakness, smiling Fleur. She wonder if she hadn’t know that all along, as it seemed so apparent to her now that she didn’t really want to say no. That she had come all this way to says yes, even though all reason told her that she should say no. The truth was Athos was right about Bonacieux, about fencing, about everything. She hadn’t seen how fencing could help her but once again Athos had startled her by how easily he read her. She loved fencing. It made her happy. And that was reason enough for her to continue learning how to fight.

“Fine, how are we going about this then?” and so Constance found herself trying to learn how to bring down a man twice her size with Porthos, while Athos began teach Fleur the basics of fencing. And when it was time to go home she could truly say she felt happier than she had in a long amount of time.

It quickly became routine to spend a few hours once every other day at the church spending half her time learning to fence from Athos and the other how to grapple from Porthos. Although Athos promised her he was arranging somewhere less sacrilegious for them to train at, he had yet to tell her where this might be.

She hadn’t been convinced that having Porthos teach them how to fight was entirely a good idea at first. He was the best musketeer at hand to hand so she understood the reasoning there, but he was so large and incredibly strong Constance didn’t see how he could teach someone her or Fleur’s size how to fight. When she brought this up to him the first day though, he had merely laughed. “I haven’t always been this big. Used to be a scrawny little street rat in the court of miracles. Gotta learn how to fight there especially if you’re little.” Constance had heard a little about Porthos’s past from d’Artagnan but still it was hard to imagine this man so easy to laugh, as someone in such miserable circumstances as being an orphan on the streets, let alone as anything but massive.

“Listen when someone bigger than you comes after you, you fight dirty. Got it?” Porthos was looking at her in earnest.

“That’s a funny thing for a musketeer to say. Aren’t you lot all supposed to be about honor.”

“There nothing honorable about fighting. The only honorable thing about it is that it helps you defend yourself and others from those you don’t see it that way. Anyone who says different either knows nothing of fighting or nothing of honor.”

“Why do you keep getting into fights at taverns then?” Porthos grinned, “That’s just for fun, yeah.”

By the end of that day Constance knew the basic weak points on the body and had been given strict instructions on how to exploit them. None of it seemed very honest but Porthos had made her promise to remember them and use them if she ever had to. “I don’t give a damn about the other guy got it. Just you. So bite the bastards if you have to.”

She doubted she would ever bite a man especially as the lessons continued and she began to fight rather well. She wouldn’t have to. Of course the others had said she was good but she was awkward then still trying to find her feet. She really just had to take their word for it.

Fleur threw herself into it like she did everything. She was always searching for new knowledge even before Ninon had taken her under her wing. She had actually taught herself how to read much to her parent surprise when they realized. Constance would never have known it from the look of him but Porthos was much the same. She had never thought the man dim, well not any more so than she thought the rest of them were, but he had a thirst for knowledge that rivaled Fleur’s. Soon the two of them were having conversations about philosophy while sparing. They passed books back and forth together at a pace which led Constance to believe they were merely sleeping with the books under their pillows so all the knowledge came to them in a dream. When she told Fleur her theory she had only gotten a laugh.

Athos for his part seemed to enjoy the training. He smiled more than Constance had seen him do in all the time she had known him at least. They both began to joke quite easily around each other. It was nice to see this side of him. A side Constance was sure he only every showed his three fellow musketeer friends.

One day they sat in the shade a few minutes to catch their breath listening to Porthos and Fleur banter back and forth about dropping objects and which would hit the ground first. Constance couldn’t quite wrap her head around what the importance of that was, but if their enthusiasm was to be believed it was very important.

“Have you ever listened to someone, whose intellect is so far beyond your own, that whole conversations sound like the ramblings of a mad man?”

“Only when I’m with Fleur.”

“My father once said that was the mark of a genius. Mad ramblings.”

“It wouldn’t be so annoying if I could just make sense of some of it. But no, and the dumber they sound they to me, the surer I am of how big an idiot I really am.”

“Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

Constance shrugged in agreement. “You had an education though, didn’t you? You have to understand some of what their saying.”

“I had a very disappointed tutor. And honestly, I doubt he could follow those two right now.”

They were silent for a moment before Constance broke it. “You know what your strength is?” Athos quirked an eyebrow but remained silent. “People. You don’t act like it being all quiet and sulking in corners, but you’re reading them. You’re good at understanding them without any basis. You see people for who they really are.”

“That’s not true.” He replied looking down avoiding her eyes.

“You figured me out, and Bonacieux quicker than I did.”

“That was from experience.”

It was only then that Constance noticed his mood had changed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –“

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Another silence followed this one tense and Constance struggle to think of a way to end it. Thankfully Athos broke it before it suffocated the both of them.

“D’Artagnan is doing exceptionally well as a musketeer.”

“That’s good.” She wished the silence had suffocated them.

“He is making a name for himself. But he has been uncommonly blue as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“I can’t say that I can. Well, we should get started again.”

“You never ask after him.”

“We ended it. It’s done. There would be no point.”

“He makes you happy.”

“Athos don’t.” Constance pinned him with a glare that made her stance clear. “He can’t… he isn’t a part of my life now and that’s a good thing. I couldn’t live that way again. If I am to continue this life, it has to be without him.”

Athos looked at her in that intense way of his. “Lives change, Constance. What is impossible today isn’t necessarily ruled out tomorrow.” He nodded to Fleur and Porthos, “Just ask our friends. They were talking about the possibility of men flying with the birds the other day.”

“They are mad!”


	3. Chapter Three

It was a week later that Constance saw Athos again. He had warned her that he would be busy with musketeer work for at least that long and wouldn’t be able to ‘attend mass.’ That was what he and Porthos had started calling their lessons quite some time ago. Constance hadn’t been surprised by that. She had been surprised to learn Fleur was the one who came up with the title.

  
What would Fleur’s family say about Constance letting her learning to fight from musketeers on a weekly basis? Hopefully her family had given up on the chance of Fleur ever being an entirely respectable lady. The most they could really hope for was an interesting woman that was known for her good sense and uncommon ways. Personally Constance had always liked the last option best. She wished she had been able to follow that path herself.

  
She was thinking these things over in the market when Fleur came running up to her beaming as bright as the sun. “Constance, it’s great news. You won’t believe it.”

  
“What? What is it?” Fleur had begun spinning her around. “Fleur, tell me you silly goose.”

  
“A message came from Porthos! Mass has been moved!”

  
“Stop calling it that,” Constance said crossly. “Why didn’t he come tell me? Oh, what are your parents going to think about you getting letters from musketeers?”

  
“Oh he didn’t send it in a letter. He put it in the book he borrowed.”

  
“So you met him in the street to swap books that young ladies shouldn’t even be reading. Your parents will be so relieved.” Constance tried to stay cross but it was hard with Fleur still smiling like that.

  
“No he sent it through the lending league. See its right here.”

  
“The what?”

  
“The lending league, it says-“

  
“What’s the lending league?”

  
Fleur was quiet for a moment considering before she smiled again. “Well I suppose it’s alright to tell you now. After Ninon’s salon was taken by the Cardinal, all of the women who went there had nowhere to go to continue our studies. We decided that it was too dangerous to have any one place like that again, so we study in small groups sometimes at salons, but more often than not wherever we can find. But it’s hard to get the books we all need now, so the ones who have some pass them along. It all just grew from there.”

  
“And Porthos knows about your secret society of lady scholars how?”

  
“Oh, after all the help he gave Ninon it was no trouble getting him into the league.”

  
“Help he gave Ninon? I mean they did try but-“

  
“Oh Constance, I can tell you now. She didn’t die. She is living in the country, teaching there.”

  
Constance stared at Fleur still smiling, and wondered if all her and Athos’s joking could be true. Could Fleur be mad? After all, Ninon had died. What could Fleur be talking about?

  
“The Cardinal let her live as long as she promised to stay out of Paris and never let him hear or see her again. You understand no one must know.”

  
“But how do you know? Why are you telling me now?”

  
“The entire lending league knows, and I can tell you now. You have been accepted as a member.” Fleur said with pride.

  
“Excepted as a … but I didn’t even ask to join.”

  
“Well of course you didn’t. How could you ask to join something you didn’t even know existed? Athos asked for you. I would have, but I didn’t think you would want to until recently.”

  
“How does Athos fit into all this?”

  
“Ninon of course! He wrote to her asking for her help finding a place where they would let women learn to fight.”

  
“Why not at the church?”

  
“It’s sacrilegious,” Fleur replied with a look that mocked Constance’s on a number of occasions.

  
“My head hurts. Isn’t this all a bit dramatic.”

  
“The Cardinal tried to have a woman burned for witchcraft just because she dared to teach other women the strength of themselves.” Fleur was suddenly very serious, and Constance nodded to say she saw her point.

  
“Well, where is this mysterious headquarters of the lending league?”

  
“We don’t have a headquarters. Haven’t you been listening?” Fleur smiled again teasing her friend back.

  
“Yes, yes, just a series of catacombs you all gather in. Where is mass to be held?”

  
“I knew I’d get you to joke about that sooner or later,” Fleur replied smugly as she pulled the letter out from inside the book. “It says the new location is to be at the Countess de la Rouge’s salon, tomorrow.”

  
“No it doesn’t. It doesn’t say anything and I know how to read Fleur,” Constance said pulling the paper closer to her still seeing nothing but elaborate squiggles.

  
“It’s a code we’ve all been using. I came up with it”

  
“How is that not melodramatic?”

  
“Well it is, but it’s also fun,” Fleur beamed as she explained the code and how she had come up with it and taught everyone in the lending league. She was extremely pleased Porthos had finally found an occasion serious enough to use it. From there she began talking about ancient languages at a pace that had Constance’s head spinning.  
There was no doubt Fleur would be an interesting woman someday.

  
~oooo~

  
Standing in front of the gate Constance wondered yet again how much of this was a good idea. She had never been to a place as … as…rich. The word she was looking for was definitely rich, though that would never begin to cover it. She had to pick up her pace to catch up with Fleur, who hadn’t paused for a moment, but skipped gaily up to the footmen at the doors, told them who she and Constance were, and then smiling back at her friend walked in following the footman.

  
“How could she be this comfortable around this finery?” Constance wondered fidgeting a bit and taking pains to watch her step so as not to leave any permanent damage in her wake. She wished she had worn something nicer, but then she didn’t want to ruin her best dress fighting in it, or raise her husband’s suspicions about why she was dressed up.  
“Madame Bonacieux and Mademoiselle Bough, Madame,” the footman said upon ushering them into a room.

  
Constance hurried to do her best courtesy and may have noticeably stumbled. She had had many occasions to courtesy before with her husband’s job she had met many fashionable ladies, but this was different. This wasn’t related to her husband’s job, this wasn’t even something he would approve of. She was very nearly at this woman’s mercy and she hadn’t even had time or courage to look at her.

  
“Welcome Ladies, I had been expecting you. Now, let’s get a look at each other.” Constance straightened up and looked at the Countess. She was a woman near her forties but beautiful in a regal way. Her manner of dress was fine but not ostentatiously, and her smile was kind but had a clear clever bite to it that forewarned everyone not to cross her. She had hair that was streaked with silver and eyes that were deep brown and politely shrewd. Constance could tell she was formidable, and prayed she made a good impression. She was relieved to see Athos and Porthos standing there as well behind the woman. It would be far too much, to face such a lady on her own.

  
The Countess took in both of their appearances. Athos shifted forward. “This is –“

“Hush, I’d like to guess myself,” she cut off Athos good naturally. She smiled brightly at Fleur, “You are the girl from Ninon’s salon, Fleur. I saw you there once or twice I believe. I am glad you have continued pursuing knowledge despite what happened there. It would be a shame to have brilliance such as yours snuffed out.”

  
“Thank you for saying so Countess, and thank you for having us at your salon,” Fleur replied smiling like always.

  
“I always admired what Ninon was doing at her salon, but alas I could not copy it to such an extreme as she did. I unfortunately have a husband to contend with. He is doting, but still, one can only get away with so much in such circumstances.” Her eyes then fell on Constance, “You must be our skilled swords woman, Constance Bonacieux. I have heard a lot about you from Athos. I couldn’t be more pleased to facilitate your studies. You do not mind if I watch from time to time?”

  
“Of course not,” Constance weakly replied still over whelmed by her surroundings. If the Countess noticed she did not comment, but merely showed them to her garden where they would be allowed to practice. As Athos and the countess walked ahead chatting amicably, she leaned to Fleur and whispered, “How are you so calm? I feel like a fish out of water.”

  
“Yea, you look it to,” Porthos mumbled under his breath close by. “Gone green around the gills.”

  
“I wasn’t calm the first time. When I went to Ninon’s salon, I thought I had no right to be there in truth, but I got over it and you will to.” Fleur grasped Constance’s hand as they walked. “You are meant to be here.”

  
“Fate,” Porthos added grinning.

  
When they were escorted out into the gardens the Countess smiled and said she would allow them to practice in peace today as she was sure they would need time getting use to their surroundings.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the tags come into play today. Just a heads up. Also long chapter today.

The day progressed normally enough with Athos and Fleur paired off to practice fencing and Porthos and Constance sparing.

  
Both musketeers had a similar teaching style, which was learn the basics then learn the rest by doing. Fleur wasn’t as quick to learn fighting as she was to learn everything else and was progressing slower than Constance did. Anyone else in that position of things coming so easily to them and then suddenly finding the one subject in which they could not excel at would have been discouraged, but Fleur seem to take this in stride and decide the only thing for it was to try twice as hard as before. And so it was with great determination that she slowly gained skill. Athos seem to admire this in Fleur and took care not to damping her sprites in training, or crush her resolve. Constance added this on to her list of reasons Athos was unexpectedly good with people.

  
Constance watched distracted as Fleur recovered from a stumble, Porthos took the opportunity to swipe her legs out from under her. He had stopped going entirely easy on her when it had become apparent that she was learning how to take advantage of this. “That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t looking.”

  
“Always keep your eyes on your opponent and never fight fair in an unfair fight,” Porthos replied looking apologetic.

  
Constance threw a quick kick to his stomach like she had been shown a few weeks ago and grabbed his arms to flip him as he doubled over calling out as she did, “And always expect the unexpected.”

  
As she scrambled up and Porthos caught his breath on the ground, she heard slow clapping. Standing there lending against a tree was Aramis, clearly amused at his friend still lying on his back. “Constance your progress has been stunning! Truly!”

  
Constance turned to glare at Athos who for his part didn’t finch, “You promised you wouldn’t invite whole garrison.”

  
“I didn’t invite him,” Athos replied looking highly annoyed.

  
“No and that’s what really hurts, especially from you Porthos. I had to follow you all through Paris, and then scale the garden wall when my own dear friend the Countess would not let me pay her a visit. It really hurts.”

  
“Wasn’t my secret to tell,” Porthos replied sheepishly still doubled over a bit.

  
“And why are you keeping secrets at all? Who from? Your dearest friends?”

  
“Constance did not want d’Artagnan involved with her training at the present, and had wishes to keep a distance between them. Porthos and I chose to respect her decision. Personally I thought it was a wise decision. The least complicated this all is the better.”

  
“How is lying less complicated?”

  
“Lay off,” Porthos said looking over to Constance. The guilt must have shown on her face. She hadn’t thought of where Aramis had been during all of this, and now she felt she had driven a wedge into the group. She had told Athos she didn’t wish to see d’Artagnan during all this, but she hadn’t thought of what he and Porthos would have to do to insure it. She had made them lie to their friends.

  
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault, Aramis. I just didn’t think I could managing seeing him with the way things are now between us,” she said hoping her explanation was vague enough to leave Fleur out of the loop. As wonderful as Fleur was at riddles, she doubted there was really any chance of that. “I should not have made them lie to you.”

  
It was Aramis’s turn to look sheepish. For all his claims of wrong doings on their part, he obviously did not want or know what to do with an apology from her. “Is it really proper to be teaching ladies to fight in such idyllic surroundings though?” Aramis asked finding a change of subject the best option.

  
“We were teachin’ them in an abandoned church before, so anything’s a step up.”

  
Aramis had an exaggerated look of shock on his face as he said, “That’s sacrilegious!”

  
“Constance will be so pleased to hear you say that. She didn’t even like us calling practice mass,” Fleur added smiling at Constance hoping her teasing would ease her friend.

  
“And that’s another reason why we didn’t have you join us,” Athos replied dryly. “Though it’s not like that is comparable to the worse thing you’ve ever done in a church.”

  
Aramis suddenly went pale and Athos looked as if he would dearly love to forget whatever the episode was that he seemed to unintentional have brought forth. Constance didn’t want to know.

  
“Well, I believe you have missed a huge gap in the ladies’ education. One that surly you must realize only I can amend,” Aramis said recovering after a pause.

  
“No, I had not taught them how to shoot yet,” Athos sighed. “If you feel you must help then go see if the countess has any glass bottles she doesn’t need anymore.” Athos added to Aramis’s quickly retreating form, “But only if she is alright with us using muskets in her garden. And make sure she is aware of the danger we pose to the roses.”

  
Sometime later Aramis had set up a mini shooting range he was extraordinary pleased with, and Fleur was standing with pistol in hand looking a bit peaky. Constance had felt the same the first time she held a pistol. It was much more intimidating than a sword. It was like a tiny portable canon.

  
“Don’t worry, with my help you will soon be the prettiest marks lady in all of Paris,” Aramis said giving her a charming wink.

  
“Don’t do that,” Porthos said by his side glaring a bit at his friend.

  
“What? I was just complementing our lovely protégé,” Aramis said giving a bow to the less than impressed Fleur.

  
“It’s patronizing,” Fleur said wearing a frown that did not suit her face but made her stance clear.

  
“Yeah mate, besides it’s never just anything with you.”

  
“Touché,” Aramis said giving in regrettably to the assault. “I will try to keep my behavior strictly professional.”

  
“You better,” Porthos said letting the matter drop after one last glare.

  
It was a relief to see Porthos ready to act the big brother in Fleur defense. It made Constance much easier to know she wouldn’t be the only one keeping Aramis in line where Fleur was concerned. Aramis just couldn’t help but flirt with everyone. It was really very concerning. That coupled with his extreme lack of self-preservation, he had to get into the most scandalous affairs.

  
“Let us continue practice, Constance.” Athos said snapping her attention back after their brief rest.

  
They fought in silence for a few minutes with Athos occasional giving her pointers. Till Athos asked, “You look as though something is troubling you?”

  
“I just … Athos what is this really all for?”

  
“I told you I wanted to apologize and I thought this would make you happy.”

  
“That’s a lie,” Constance said stopping the fight. She wouldn’t let him just sweep it under the rug this time. She knew she was right. There was some underlining reason to all this. “Athos you lied to your friends for me, and the way be been training me and Fleur it’s like you are training real musketeers. What are you planning?”

  
He sighed and gave in, “I do have a plan on where all this is heading, but I can’t really give you all the details yet. I’m afraid some of it is still up in the air. All I can really tell you is you must trust me.”

  
Constance could feel the seriousness of his mood, and gave under the weight of it, “Fine, I’ll trust you. But not much, you’re still an idiot musketeer.”

  
Athos smirked, “I’d tell you you’re assumptions about musketeer are wrong but I’m afraid you have far too much experience on the matter.”

  
In time a footman brought out tea and refreshments which caused Constance some discomfort because it seemed far too nice for such a motley assembly taking up the Countess’s garden, especially when she tasted the little cakes. They were far nicer than any she had had before. Soon it was time to leave and she thanked the Countess profusely for the use of her gardens. The Countess merely smiled and said she could think of no better use for it.

  
On the way home Fleur smiled and told Constance of how she had shot three bottles; which was more than Constance had managed her first lesson. Fleur had finally found the one musketeer activity she seemed to have natural talent for. Knowing her, she would take great pride in polishing that talent to perfection. Constance had fared a little better this time around, remembering what d’Artagnan had told her. He was starting to feel like a ghost in her life. He was never there, but his absence was making him more present than if he was.

  
Soon, going to the Countess’s was as routine as going to the church had been. Though now they went less often so as not to raise suspicion. The Countess’s was further out of their way than the church had been and now Aramis was not able to distracted d’Artagnan. Constance had spoken to Athos again about that and said she would be fine if d’Artagnan knew. That she had reconsidered and decided it wouldn’t be that hard being around him again, as just friends this time.

Athos had quickly seen through that deception. He said she would much rather continue lying they have her feel remorse for things she had no power over. D’Artagnan being there would be detrimental to her learning and he could not be trusted entirely to stay away if he knew.

  
“He is simply too impulsive. I do not think he would understand why he had to stay away.”

  
“I’m not sure I do a good job understanding that either and it was my own idea.”

  
“It would be too confusing Constance. You need to know who you are doing this for.”

  
“Who? Fleur? I really don’t know. Who am I doing this for?”

  
“Yourself, Constance first and foremost for yourself.”

  
Their training continued on in much the same fashion but they trained for longer to make up for cutting back on the frequency of the training. Fleur and Constance practiced some at home alone working on foot work and pairing against imagery foes. Sometimes they would get together and practice, trying to be careful of furniture. It was never the best situation but it was the best they could manage.

  
They were improving though. At the Countess’s, Constance began to spar with Athos more in honest than just practicing. He reminded her to keep a cool head and to remain focused. It was good to be aware of your surrounding but never let it distract you from what was in front of you. She had a hard time doing that honestly.

  
The Countess continued to serve them refreshments and came out to eat with them quite often. Constance began to feel much more at ease with the woman. The Countess began to watch their practice just as she had promised she would. Constance didn’t how that could be amusing for the woman, though she watched them with the intensity that rivaled Athos’s.

  
At home Constance continued her chores and duties without anyone guessing what her mind was constantly occupied with. Bonacieux didn’t seem to know or even imagine what his wife was doing once every week when she went out to market with Fleur. Once or twice he had asked what had taken her so long, but she had simply said Fleur and her were distracted on some nonsense or that they had stopped to visit a friend. He had started keeping up her actives out of the house after d’Artagnan had left. It had been quite suffocating and had led to her staying in more often than not. He didn’t feel the need to monitor so closely when she was with Fleur luckily.

  
He still belittled her often and sometimes would start an argument over nothing, raising his voice, and once even broke her favorite vase in anger. He had apologized later after the mess was clean, saying he had lost control. It had been a wedding gift from her grandmother who had died. Constance couldn’t bear to part with all of it, though it was broken into so many pieces. She saved a piece, wrapped it in a handkerchief and kept it in her jewelry box next to her mother’s earrings. She brought it out sometimes and ran her fingers over its sharp edges, till she cut herself one day. From then on she kept it in the box and tried not to think about it too much, but take what comfort she could that some of the vase was saved.

  
Some days it felt like too much. There had always been days like this but they seem to become more frequent. She was happy to have something to think of and look forward to through the week to make these days more bearable. Bonacieux’s behavior had been getting worse, she felt. His disgusted comments came more frequently, and strung worse than before. They rarely miss their mark. But she had the Countess’s garden to think of. Soon she would be there with her friends. Friends who did not call her clumsy or dim, they would never call her ugly in her nice new dress she had sewn herself. They knew she was no whore even if she had loved a man who was not her husband. All she ever heard from them was praise for her achievements or gentle advice to improve her faults. She loved her friends for that.

  
Her thoughts were of them that afternoon as she cooked in the kitchen humming to herself, just the day after tomorrow, and she would see them again. She didn’t even notice when Bonacieux came into the room, till he had wiped her around and grabbed hold of her arms hard enough to leave bruises again. “Let go! That hurt’s!”

  
As she tried to pull away he shook her. “You lied Constance! You weren’t at Madame Fournier’s last week! She said she hasn’t seen you in three weeks! Where were you then? Were you with Him!?”

  
“I don’t know what you are talking about! let go!”

  
“Oh yes you do you little whore! You were with your musketeer again weren’t you? Or have you gotten yourself a new one?”

  
“I wasn’t with him! I haven’t been with anyone!”

  
“Don’t lie to me!” Bonacieux punctuated this sentence with a fist. It was hard across her face and she tasted blood. “Tell me who it was!” he raised his hand to her again, and everything slowed down. She wasn’t surprised by it this time and she knew what to do. Porthos had taught her how to get the best of someone bigger than her. She blocked his hand and twisted out of his grasp, landing a quick punch to his nose. She stepped back stunned at him, that he would ever do this to her. He looked stunned for a moment as well, bringing back his hand from his nose to see blood, but then he looked madder than he ever had before. He grabbed her again and she kicked his shin breaking free. Realizing she would not be able to get pass him, she grabbed a metal pitcher off the table behind her and bashed it over his head.

  
Then all was quiet and he lay on the floor still.

  
Constance stood there a moment over his body. And then she wasn’t. She was standing at the musketeers garrison breathing heavy unsure of what to do next. She stood at the gates looking in at her friends sitting at the old table in the yard as they did so often. They were laughing at some story Aramis was telling. D’Artagnan was sitting there smiling. Shame crept up her spine. She should leave. She should go. She had almost turned around when one of them saw her. Porthos, the big grin that was so naturally apart of his face gone in a moment. He called out her name rising, but it was Athos who made it to her first grabbing her arms gently. “Constance? Constance, are you all right?”

  
“I-I …he thought I had…I couldn’t tell him, he wouldn’t let me…” Athos wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back trying her calm her down. “He hit me, and I killed him.”

  
Athos looked sharply to Aramis who nodded and was gone in an instant. Porthos was pulling back d’Artagnan. Athos took her into a small room with some medical supplies and shut the door behind him closing it on Porthos still trying to restrain d’Artagnan but not succeeding. He took off after Aramis, with Porthos on his heels.

  
Athos pulled a blanket over her shoulders that she hadn’t noticed were shaking. He handed her a bottle of wine and told her to drink. She laughed at that thought, it did not sound like a laugh when her own ears caught the sound. So she cried instead and let Athos see to her cheek that still strung.

  
“It will bruise,” Athos said. He looked at her and sat beside her, pulling her close trying to calm her tears.

  
Her voice still shook when she spoke again, though it had lost some of its high brittleness. She told him more clearly what had happened. “How could he do that just hit me like that? He didn’t even wait for an answer. I never thought he would hit me.”

  
“He isn’t a normal person Constance. Not a good one like you are. You can’t imagine ever hurting someone you love like that, he can imagine a love where someone doesn’t hurt the other.”

  
“Why? How could anyone be like that?”

  
“I don’t know. I’ve tried to understand but I don’t know.”

  
“You knew this would happen,” Constance said looking up at him. “When you first came to the house that day you knew.”

  
“I suspected.”

  
“How?”

  
“D’Artagnan was drunk and he told me more than he meant to about how Bonacieux spoke to you. How he treated you.”

  
“But how did you know it would go this far?”

  
“She was like him,” Constance knew who he spoke of without him needing to clarify. “It started like that, small things that broke the dream. So slowly I didn’t realize how bad it was till it was … very bad. I kept all of it a secret. I didn’t want anyone to know. I thought it would be alright if it was only me she was hurting. I didn’t know what to do to make her stop or just …love me the way I loved her. My brother found out though and he would not let it stand. He found out she had been a criminal as well and then she…I would have forgiven her past. I was willing to forgive anything but… he killed him and… it took me so many years to realize that it wasn’t me. She didn’t love me, not because of any horrible defect in myself that proved unlovable, but because she only understood love in that vicious way of hers. It was all she had ever known and I threw her back to it.”

  
“It’s not your fault she became what she did. She made her own choices,” Constance was crying for Athos now as well as herself.

  
“But she never had many. No I wanted to hurt her like she did me, and I did.” Before Constance could protest anymore there was a knocking at the door. “Come in.”

  
It was Aramis looking a little winded, “Good news and bad news. Good news, Bonacieux is not dead.”

  
“Bad news?”

  
“Bonacieux is not dead. Really I was ready to hide the body and lie to the pope when I saw you, Constance. How are you?”

  
“Well, I suppose.”

  
“More good news then. Great, that balances out with the last little bit of bad news we still have.”

  
“What is it?”

  
“I had to knock d’Artagnan out to keep Bonacieux alive,” Porthos added coming into view dragging d’Artagnan’s form. They laid him out on the bed. “The bloody idiot almost killed me trying to get at him.”

  
“Did anybody see you?”

  
“Don’t think so. Managed to knock him out around the corner just before he got there.”

  
“Good. Still we have to find somewhere for Constance to stay tonight. Bonacieux is sure to check here, if he decides to come after her.”

  
“I can send out word through the lending league,” Porthos replied getting an odd look from Aramis who had been left out of the loop about the league.

  
“Would they be able to hide her for the night on such short notice? Would they be willing to? It could prove dangerous if someone’s father or husband were to find out they were hiding other women from their husbands.”

  
“They’ve managed it before, and often not even for women in the league. I don’t think they would leave one of their own out in the lurch.”

  
“Then send word.” Athos said setting his hat on his head. “I’ll go get everything else prepared. I think it can be managed in short notice.”

  
“And what about me?” Aramis said looking put out.

  
“You watch Constance and D’Artagnan and make sure no harm comes to them. Or that they cause any harm.” Athos added looking at d’Artagnan lying on the bed.

  
And with that the three were left alone. “Do you know what he’s planning?”

  
“Do I ever know anything? No, they never tell me anything. Let’s just keep secrets from Aramis. Why should we ever tell him anything? He can’t keep secrets. But I’m not bitter about it. No, why should I be? I keep plenty of secrets like Athos’s Ninon living in the country teaching farm girls.” He then stopped and looked at Constance wide eyed. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

  
Constance couldn’t help but smile at his comical expression, “I already know,”

  
“Of course you do. You even better in the loop than I am and you not even a musketeer.”

  
“Well not entirely in the loop,” Constance sat next to d’Artagnan looking at him for the first time in so long. Really, no one had the right to look that pretty. “Were Ninon and Athos close?”

  
“As close as he’s been to a woman in as long I’ve known him,” Aramis looked at her considering. “Well besides you, but that’s very different.”

  
Constance brushed some of d’Artagnan’s hair from his forehead. Aramis added after a pause, “Do you know what this league is Porthos was talking about?”

  
“Yes, but I have no intention of telling you,” Constance replied turning around to look at his frown, smiling. “Can’t ruin tradition.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank everyone for leaving kudos on here! I love you all!


	5. Chapter Five

Sometime later d’Artagnan awoke to Constance sitting beside him singing softly while reading a book. Athos and Porthos still weren’t back and Aramis had stepped outside to keep watch. When d’Artagnan groaned she turned to him and helped him sit up.

  
“There we go sleepy head.”

  
“Where is he I’ll kill hi-“

  
“No you won’t,” Constance said crossly. “I won’t have you get yourself charged with murder and have that on my conscience.”

  
“But he …” d’Artagnan’s breath caught and he reached his hand out to her bruised cheek. His eyes looked worse than she had ever imagined them. She almost started crying again.

  
“I’m alright,” She smiled lending into the touch.

  
“I won’t let him hurt you,” d’Artagnan was crying now. “I should have never left you with him.”

  
“Don’t be silly, I told you to. What were you supposed to do? You can’t be there with me every second of every day. Besides I won’t let him hurt me anymore.”

  
“Please tell me that you’re leaving him Constance.”

  
She had meant fighting back if Bonacieux tried to hurt her again, but right then she realized that wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to have to fight him. She didn’t care, even that much about him. She didn’t want to be under his thumb. She wanted her freedom. But she knew that came with a cost. She would have to find work somewhere and who would be willing to hire a woman who had run away from her husband. No one would understand, they would think he had a right to treat her the way he had. That she had done something to deserve it. She had even thought that at times. But she wasn’t willing to go back.

  
She knew Athos had something up his sleeve. At first she had merely thought he had meant to make it so she could protect herself from him and have something to do outside that house, something to take her mind far away. But now she knew he didn’t have any plans to leave her there, not after she had seen his face as he had spoken of Milady. He had been through what she had. He knew what she had felt. He would never leave her to Bonacieux just like she could never leave someone to that fate.

  
“I won’t go back,” Constance said with confidence. D’Artagnan kissed her sweetly, and she kissed back with no shame. What could ever be shameful about loving such a sweet man?

  
They only broke apart when they heard someone clearing their throat behind them. Aramis stood with Porthos in the doorway looking equal parts amused and apologetic. “We’ve found somewhere for you to stay the night.”

  
“You can’t leave here,” d’Artagnan said looking like his friends had lost his mind. “What if Bonacieux comes looking for her.”

  
“He won’t find her as long as she’s not here, mate,” Porthos said looking over his shoulder. “We really don’t have time to discuss this either. I put watch at his house and he said Bonacieux is headed this way. We have to get you outta here.”

  
D’Artagnan had surged forward on hearing this, but Constance pulled him back. “You can’t go doing something stupid.” D’Artagnan tried to protest but she stopped him again, “He’s not worth it and I’m not going back to him. He won’t hurt me again.”

  
“But he did hurt you, Constance. He has to pay for that.”

  
“He did pay,” Aramis added grinning, a momentary pause in his anxiety. “He looks worse than she does. It’s no wonder you thought you killed the devil.”

  
D’Artagnan looked confused at this while Porthos beamed looking proudly at her.

  
“You have to promise me, you won’t do anything if you see him.”

  
“I can’t-“

  
“Please d’Artagnan,” Constance saw him visibly give in before she heard his mumbled agreement.

  
“Good, can’t have you ruining the plan,” Aramis added as Constance finally followed after Porthos.

  
“What plan?”

  
“Oh thank god, there is someone less up to date than I am.”

  
Porthos and Constance ducked out the back went around the side street. Porthos quickly pulled her back into an ally. She peaked out behind a barrel to see Bonacieux marching down to the garrison looking horrible, though less bloody than the last time she saw him. Porthos grinned at her after he had passed. “You did that.” It wasn’t a question but a statement said proudly.

  
“Learned from the best.”

  
“Didn’t look very honorable.”

  
“Wasn’t meant to.”

  
That got a laugh out him as the led her down the streets away from the garrison. They went down to the markets and stop by a fountain where a woman stood in a shawl. She smiled kindly at Constance.

  
“This is where we split. We’ll send word through the league tomorrow on where to meet us. And I sent word to Fleur telling her you were alright and not to worry.”

  
“Thank you, Porthos.” She hadn’t thought how worried Fleur would be. Her being family she had surely heard some of it. The gossip must be horrible, she ran through the streets in such a state and now Bonacieux marching around with what looked like two black eyes.

  
“They’ll switch you off a couple of times, so don’t be surprise where you end up,” Porthos grinned and said his goodbyes, watching her leave with the woman.

  
She was switched off many times. She was given a cloak by one woman and then told to change into another cloak by a different woman. She didn’t dare think it was too dramatic this time though. For all these women knew her life could be in danger. For all she know her life could be in danger. She had never thought Bonacieux would ever hit her and he had. And the last time he thought she had left him he had tried to take his own life. She no longer knew what he was capable of.

  
She was surprised by the varied of women that helped her through the streets. She had expect mostly young women who had been in Ninon’s salon, but it was clear the lending league had grown quiet large. There was a mother who gave Constance a loaf of bread as she led her though the streets to pass her off to an old woman who walked slowly and made little talk about her grandchildren. Constance was even passed into a fine carriage with a woman dressed in a rich gown, who smiled sad and knowingly at Constance when she saw her cheek. Constance was overwhelmed by the kindness of these strangers. She would never even know their names as that was part of protocol. Not I signal one looked at her in judgment or said anything but a kind word. No one asked what she had done it deserve that bruise, or why she was running. They just helped and passed her along in their finely crafted web.

  
Finally she came to the house she was to stay at. It was larger than hers and furnished well, but it was not as big as the Countess’s, or to make her think they were of high nobility. The woman there fed her diner talking sweetly of her husband who was away on business for the week and said Constance was welcome to stay longer if she wished than just the night. When Constance politely declined she just smiled and talked of her sons and how they had grown into fine men, and how she was so proud of her daughters’ achievements. She said she was very pleased to have company that night as she had planned to have her son over but he had been detained. She retired early and left Constance in the care of her maid who led her to the guess room with a sleeping gown laid out. She slept deep that night, after having thanked god for all the angels he had sent to Paris and into her life.

  
She woke early the next day was about to change into yesterday’s clothes when the maid knocked saying something had arrived for her and she was to come down for breakfast in half an hour. It was her own clothes wrapped in brown cloth with a note from Fleur. At least she though it was from Fleur, it was in that code the league used. Fleur had been trying to teach it to her but she was horrible at it and had honestly been too busy practicing all the other things she was learning that she hadn’t managed to find time for the code too.

  
She dressed hurriedly and went down to breakfast with the note in hand. She smiled and curtsied to her kind hostess before she sat down.

  
“I’m sorry but could you tell me what this note says,” Constance asked over the eggs. “It’s from my friend, and well she tried to get me to learn the code and I just-“

  
“Oh say no more,” the lady smiled and took the note from her. “It’s quiet a complicated little code, wouldn’t have managed it myself without my daughter’s help. Let see, it from some Fleur but I suppose you guess that much. She says, she asked the maid to sneak one of your dresses out, and she is very happy you punched the … oh well…good for you.” She said blushing a little at whatever crude word Fleur had chosen, but still impressed by Constance. “It also says to meet her outside the White Bull Traven at nine o’ clock. Well plenty of time till then.”

  
Once that was settled they went back to breakfast. The breakfast was lovely and Constance was sure to thank her for it and all the help she had been.

  
“Nonsense, I’m glad to be of help to someone at my age,” She said over the breakfast table. “My first husband was like yours. No good. You don’t mind me speaking of it?” Constance shook her head. “I knew he was no good before I married him, but my family had expectations you see. So I married him and stayed with him far longer than I should have for their sakes. I didn’t want the scandal and uncertainty that would come with leaving him, and honestly I was afraid of what he’d do to me if I tried it. I didn’t know what I would do, but then one day I just did it. I left with barely a penny to my name. It wasn’t easy but it was worth it. I was very lucky I had friends willing to help me. I don’t think I should ever have gotten by without them. But I never thought I’d fool with men again. Then Jacques came into my life so sweet and kind, and from a good family of all things. I didn’t know what he wanted with me. He said he love me that he didn’t care my husband was still alive and I couldn’t marry him. He didn’t care about the scandal. He was sure everything would work out in the end. And it did, three children later. And one on the way! My late husband finally died and the first thing my Jacques did when he heard was take me down to the church to marry me.” She laughed then “You can’t imagine the priest’s face when he found out we weren’t already wed. No one in Paris knew. And my Jacques just smiled and said that was why he had been avoiding confession for twelve years.”

  
Constance laughed with her then. After breakfast the lady called a gardener in and asked him to see her safely to the Traven and her friends. Constance thanked the woman so much for her help. The woman smiled and kissed her cheeks whispering in her ear before she let go, “Don’t give up on yourself, and if you ever need help again come here.”

  
She went through the streets again until she came to the Traven where Fleur ran up to her and hugged her tight. “I hate him. I’ll Hate him forever. How could anyone every hurt you Constance? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve told father and –“

  
“He couldn’t have done anything, Fleur. He did mistreat me but this was the first time he ever hit me. All your father could’ve done then is talked to him and for the best,”

Constance said smoothing down Fleur’s hair as she held on to her. Fleur looked about to cry when she saw the bruise. “There there, it’s all done and over with now. No need to fuss.”

  
“Is it over?”

  
Constance looked up to Athos standing there as well looking as serious as ever. “It’s time to take the final steps in my plan, and I need to be sure you won’t go back to him.”

  
“Athos, I swear if I didn’t know your plan was to get me away from him, I would have run from Paris all the way to Russia to get away from him.”

  
“Why? Because you love d’Artagnan and you wish help him happy. If so that’s not good enough reason.”

  
“Athos!” Fleur said shocked at him. Constance wasn’t though.

  
“No, because I love myself and I wish to be happy. I don’t want to give up on myself, Athos. I deserve to be happy.”

  
Athos stared intensely at her like he had in the parlor that day. He seemed to find the answer he wanted then and smiled, “I’m glad to hear that.”

  
“Do you intend to tell me you plan, then?”

  
“I can tell you it involves us going to palace. Everything else is up to the queen’s good graces.”

 


	6. Chapter Six

During the ride over in one of the countess’s carriages Athos had explained. The Countess herself was with them smiling and nodding her head. Porthos, Aramis, and d’Artagnan where going to meet them there. As the buildings passed by and Constance questioned whether or not she could keep the contents of her stomach in check, she finally understood why Athos had been so hesitant to tell her his plan. Like all musketeer plans it was incredibly ill-conceived and relied entirely on luck.

  
Finally they all stood in one of the Queen’s grand rooms. Constance shook, unlike Fleur who had taken to the plan like a fish to water. Of course she did, as smart as Fleur was she was never practical. This would never work. The King and Queen would take one look at her and laugh. D’Artagnan slipped his hand in hers and squeezed it. She felt a little better thanks to that, but then the doors opened and the King and Queen swept in.

  
“Countess de la Rouge, to what do we own this visit?” The King said as everyone bowed. “Ann tells me it is something the two of you have been planning but she won’t tell me what. We do not like mysteries.”

  
“It took some time to put together your Majesty, I had not given the Queen all the details as of yet, but I think you will find it quiet an interesting idea.” The Countess said sweeping up from her bow with a grace Constance wished for.

  
“Well go then, and we shall see.”

  
“After I heard rumors about the assassination attempt on the Queen’s life, as well as her being with child as of late, I thought extra precautions to insure her safety would be wise.”

  
“That is entirely unnecessary your majesty,” The Cardinal spoke stepping forward. Constance had been warned he would be their biggest opposition. “We have plenty of soldiers to protect the Queen and I don’t understand where the Countess is planning to take this.”

  
“The Cardinal would found out if he could keep himself from interrupting others,” The Countess looked coldly at the Cardinal.

  
“Ha! She has you there Cardinal,” The King said looking very amused at the Countess’s behavior. “Let us hear what you purpose. I can’t wait I’m sure it is bound to shock us.”

  
“I have overseen the training of these women here and I believe they would make excellent personal guards for the Queen,” The Countess smiled when the King began to laugh. “You think I jest your Majesty, but I promise I am very serious.”

  
“This is shocking Countess, even you must admit.”

  
“Has your Majesty known me to ever be anything but shocking? This is serious the queen’s life was in danger and if was not for the endeavors of these brave musketeers she would have been lost. That is why I had them train my candidates.”

  
The Queen was examining Fleur and Constance with cool curiosity. “Do they have any skill?”

  
“I think so, and I used to be the best swordsman in Paris,” the Countess proclaimed. This was news to Constance though it explained her interest in their practices even more now. “They have excelled in a very short time any I would venture they could defeat any man in the palace in a fair fight including your musketeers.”

  
“Those are wild proclamations, Countess! I think I will take you up on that. Now let see who would be appropriate.”

  
“Wait, your Majesty cannot be serious.”

  
“Why not, Cardinal? If her claims are true, I should like to know I had someone watching my queen so closely.”

  
“I know these women. She is married to a tailor and this one is not yet wed and has already been involved with that Ninon incident. It is entirely unsuitable.”

  
“I do not see why an education should count against the girl, nor do I see why the husbands and fathers of France would not be as willing to give up their wives and daughters to the King’s service as the wives and mothers are to give up their husbands and sons,” the Queen replied.

  
“Oh she has you there,” The King said smiling. “And you know I quiet agree. Why shouldn’t they?”

  
“Well if your majesty insists, then let me find the opponent. We would not want it to be anyone who would go easy on them. Then we would never know their true skill level.”

  
“Very well, Cardinal.”

  
They had been afraid this would happen. Athos had hoped the king would have picked one of the four of them, though she knew they would not go easy on her. She understood his fears. If the Cardinal picked one of his Red Guard it would not be likely that the man would play fair.

  
The Cardinal signaled to one of the guards and whispered something to him. The guard left and came back shortly with a two Red Guards. They leered at Fleur and Constance as they stood there.

  
“These are some of my finest men,” the Cardinal said sweeping his hand towards them. “If these women of your can best them then I will relent my judgment.”

  
The way he said women as if it were an insult had Constance bristling. They began to ready the matches. Athos turned to them, “Does anyone know anything about these two?”

  
“I fought the big one in a inn last month,” Porthos said looking worried. “He wasn’t an easy fight.”

  
“Then I’ll take him,” Constance said. “In less someone knows anything worse about the other one?”

  
“He’s new has a reputation as a lady’s man.”

  
“Then Fleur should take him. She is faultless at breaking hearts and stomping egos,” Aramis quipped.

  
Fleur gave him a look. “Nervous habit,” Aramis replied.

  
“If flirting is your nervous habit then I’m seriously worried for you,” Fleur quipped back. “There’s too much excitement here, maybe you should go home.”

  
Fleur stepped forward to except her challenger. “En Garde!”

  
Her opponent stood before her looking unimpressed. “I have never fought a little girl before. I don’t wish to hurt you, so maybe you should just go home, back to your sewing and cooking, eh love?”

  
“You won’t hurt me and have no intention of going anywhere,” Fleur said simply. “Or maybe you are afraid of what people will say when they hear you have lost to a little girl?”  
That did the trick, and suddenly the man surged forward propelled by anger and wounded ego. Fleur was quick to take advantage of this. She moved quick and tripped him with her foot.

  
“Oh I am sorry Monsieur. My shoes were only made for dancing you see,” she mocked.

  
“If you were not so sassy I might I’ve kissed you,” the man said with disgust.

  
“I promise I would’ve made twice as painful an experience for you as it would have been for me.” It was at this remark that true anger flashed in his eyes.

  
It was clear he no longer held back, but he still did not fight her as he would a man. He remained too sure in his inevitable victory to fight with much true skill. Fleur made use of this and she took the first opportunity given her to close in. Soon the man lay on the floor looking, quiet stunned and winded, at the end of her sword. She simply smiled, “See not hurt in the slightest.”

  
The King clapped pleased and excited while the Queen looked more politely impressed. “That was superb! Have you ever seen a woman fight like that?”

  
“No, sir I can’t say that a have.”

  
“The Cardinal forgets too easily then,” the Countess replied looking smug.

  
“We still have yet to see the other girl fight, your Majesty,” he replied ignoring the Countess comment.

  
“Then we shall. If it proves as quick a match as the last, I won’t hear another word on the subject.”

  
D’Artagnan passed Constance her sword. He stopped to look into her eyes, “Are you sure about this?”

  
“Fleur managed, I’m sure I will,” Constance said fidgeting a bit. The man was big but not as intimidating the King and Queen watching.

  
“This is different, I saw his fight with Porthos,” d’Artagnan said looking truly worried.

  
“Yes?” Constance looked up at him smiling to relive his fears. “Well, you still haven’t seen me fight yet.”

  
She took a step forward and Athos quickly whispered when she passed, “I’d say good luck but I know you won’t need it.”

  
The man who stood before her had to be at least Porthos’s size. His eyes were dead and he looked like he had lived a hard life. He no longer looked at Constance like he had before. After his friend’s embarrassing defeat, he would not underestimate her. She briefly cursed at not having that to her advantage. He did not chat like the other man had. He did want any pleasantries. When the duel began he quickly went on the attack it was hard to keep up with his assault. She tripped on the helm of her dress quiet suddenly and he surged forward to gain the upper hand. She quickly moved to the side avoiding him swearing to never wear another dress so long as she lived. She saw Athos pulling d’Artagnan back. He had taken a step forward with his hand on his sword at her misstep, sweet of him but unnecessary. She didn’t need protecting anymore. She could handle this. She had taken to fighting like a bird to air. It was freedom for her, and she would not have her wings clipped ever again.

  
She went quickly on the attack as the Red Guard turned around after she had out stepped him. She put force and precision into all her moves and quickly over powered him. She had won. And she stood back to allow him up. He leapt forward instead and grabbed the sword by the blade with his gloved hand. He snapped it in two and made to slice her down. Instead of backing up and gaining distance she came forward and blocked his sword arm from coming down. She then kneed his in the groin and butted her head into his nose. The man hit the floor with a thud, his head hitting hard. He did not get up a second time to confront her.

  
The King stood up and applauded, “That was amazing! Even better than the last! What do you say to that Cardinal?”

  
“I will keep my word and say no more on the subject, you majesty,” He spoke looking quietly enraged.

  
“Well even if you remain unmoved, we are very much impressed,” The King came forward with the Queen at his side. “What do you say Ann?”

  
“I am equally impressed your majesty,” she said looking at Constance. “I would feel very safe to have such women as my guards.”

  
“They will be like your own Musketeers my Queen,” The king said enthused. “The Queen’s Musketeers, I quite like that. Though I must say I will be quite jealous of how pretty yours are in comparison to mine.” Added this when what he must have thought was a charming smile.

  
Constance had the sudden and horrible realization she did not like the King. She did not like the King of France on a personal level. But she smiled and looked up at him from her deep curtsey and said, “Thank you, your majesty. I promise I will do all I can to protect the Queen from this moment forth.”

  
She hoped this was a formal and respectable enough thing to say. She was never good at this kind of thing. Apparently it was, he turned to the Countess, “We must thank you for this Countess. I will sleep much easier knowing my queen is safe. We will send words to their families and they will have a week to move into the palace.”

  
The king then took the queen hand and they left the room with the Cardinal following behind.

  
D’Artagnan quickly swept her up into his arms. “That was amazing!”

  
Fleur was right behind him followed by everyone else. Athos stood a little apart from the rest as he always did, till Constance pulled him into a quick tight hug.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter after this! I promise to post it soon.


	7. Chapter Seven

They had gone to Fleur’s parents first. They were crying at the news when they walked in. Fleur for all her rebellious nature was struck by this. She looked about to cry herself.

“If you don’t want me go, I won’t papa,” Fleur said in the door way.

Her father had jumped up when he heard her voice. He threw his arms around her still crying. “I knew you would make us proud,” he pulled back to look at his daughter’s face. “And I am so proud.” 

Constance had cried a little then herself. She had left them quietly to prepare for Fleur’s move to the palace. Outside her friends waited for her. They walked her to the door of the house and would have come in, but she told them to wait outside, even when d’Artagnan had thrown puppy eyes at her. 

And so she stood there now for what would be the last time. Bonacieux was at the window his back to her as she came in. She went to her room and loaded up her trunk with her gowns and knick-knacks. When she was done she went back to the parlor. She knew he knew she was there. She also knew he must know what she was doing there by now. Still she said it out loud for her ears if nothing else, “I’m leaving you Bonacieux.”

She needed to say those words here, in this place. His shoulders pulled back, “I know, what I don’t understand is why you feel the need to put yourself through so much shame just to disgrace me as well.”

“I’m to work in the palace. There’s no shame in that. And I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing this for me.”

“Oh aren’t you. You wanted to drag me though the dirt and for what? Keeping you from whor-“

“Don’t Call Me That!” he turned to her then shocked. “You don’t have any right to call me that!” she said with a quiet simmering heat.

“I have every right you’re my wife!”

“I don’t belong to you! People don’t belong to anyone! Love is not supposed to be like that! It’s supposed to be given freely not by obligation!”

“You would know a lot about that wouldn’t you,” he was in her face at this point but she didn’t back down.

“I know more about love than you will ever know. That’s why I’m leaving.”

“You think your musketeer will love you when he realizes how stupid and ugly you are? He won’t and then you will be all on your own Constance.”

“I don’t need him to love me. I love myself. And there’s nothing you can say to make me stay with you. Not like you did last time. I don’t care what bluffs you have, because I know now they’re just bluffs.”

“I will this time! I will!”

“Then do! We all make our own choices in life,” she said finally leaving the room, the house. When she stood outside again she asked for Porthos and Aramis to grab her trunk from her room as it was too heavy for just one person to handle. “How was it?” d’Artagnan asked trying to look pass her into the house. She blocked his view, idiot still might try to attack Bonacieux and there was no point now.

“It was awful but it’s over so that’s all that matters.”

Athos stood quietly by watching. He had looked relieved when Constance had come out, more so than the others. She turned to d’Artagnan, “Could you get the table in my room? It was my mother’s and I don’t want to leave it.”

“Of course,” He replied all too eager to enter the house. It was a gamble but she would just have to trust Porthos and Aramis to handle it if it d’Artagnan chose to do more than glare.

When he left, Constance turned to Athos. “I’m never going to be able to thank you enough, you know that.”

“You did the hard part.”

“You did a lot for me Athos. Don’t brush it off.” He looked down uncomfortable with the praise. “Are you in love with Ninon?”

His head snapped back up, confused with the change of subject. “What?”

“You should do something about it, if you love her.”

He looked defensibly to the side avoiding her eyes. “I don’t know what you think you know about my relationship to her but it was just friendship.”

“Don’t lie,” Constance said cutting through the nonsense. 

“She can never return to Paris.” He said finally looking up.

“You can write for now.”

“What would be the point?” he snapped finally. 

“She makes you happy, isn’t that reason enough?”

He was startled to hear his own advice thrown back at him. “I-I don’t-”

“You do deserve to be happy and someone once told me things change. What isn’t possible today could be tomorrow. We might even grow wings.” Constance added smiling now. She could see Athos’s lips twitch up wards.

Suddenly Porthos was dragging d’Artagnan out, “What were you thinking sending this one in he almost broke Bonacieux’s neck and the damn table.”

“Yeah and you almost let me,” d’Artagnan said straightening up.

“I’ve never been good with temptation,” Porthos just grinned and ducked back in. Athos quickly followed saying he’d get the table, always the best at avoiding his feelings.

“You don’t have to fight my battles for me.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “But I at least want to help you fight them.”

“Do you now?” she said sliding up to him.

“I like fighting,” he said in reply wrapping his arms around her. “But since you seem to be better at it than me at this point, maybe you should help me fight mine.”

“I might, as long as there not stupid fights.”

“So you won’t ever help me?” 

She laughed but then paused, “Are you angry that I made everyone keep the training secret.”

He shook his head. “I wish you would have let me help you, and I don’t understand why you didn’t but I’m not angry.”

“I wasn’t ready to change things and I didn’t see how they could change,” she leaned her head against his. “I thought it would be too hard to see you knowing that.”

“You’re never going to see the end of me now Constance,” he smiled down at her.

“What makes you think I want to?” she said leaning up to his lips.

Their kiss was interrupted by a throat being cleared behind them again. “All packed,” Aramis said grinning next to Porthos and Athos who was looking very interest in the house’s roof trying to them privacy.

D’Artagnan gave her one last kiss with a promise to come and see her soon. He helped her into the carriage and before he closed the door Constance looked crossly at Athos. “About what we were talking about.”

“I will consider it,” was Athos said before shutting the door.

“You better!” Constance shouted out as the carriage moved forward. 

~ooo~

One barely failed robbery, two attempts at the throne squashed, and one assassination attempt thwarted, in as little as four months. Constance was now sure Athos’s plan all along was to simply have someone he could spread out his work load with. 

At the moment she and Fleur were accompanying the Queen and King though the gardens with a foreign dignitary. The breather was welcome. 

Several Musketeers were there as well, including her friends. D’Artagnan walked up ahead with Aramis. They tried to remain separate during duties to remain professional. It worked fairly well for them. Athos walked up beside her to speak.

“Should I be calling you a Musketeer now?” he asked looking with a raised eyebrow at her pauldron.

“Oh shush, it’s just for show.”

“That’s not what I heard,” He said not letting it be dismissed. “I heard the King had those issued to both you and Fleur in thanks for all you service to the Queen, in particular saving her from an attacker after her life.”

“Wasn’t much, besides I only managed because you lot were there in time.”

“Don’t discredit yourself.”

They followed along in easy silence for a bit like they often did. Fleur was walking along with Porthos both teasing Aramis. She could tell that was just what they were doing by Aramis’s uncharacteristic scowl and d’Artagnan’s laughter. 

She had been a little worried at first how this would all work out, but it was surprisingly going very well. They accompanied the queen closely most days, which would have driven Constance wild if she were in her place, but the queen was used to it. She had slowly started opening up to both Fleur and her, which Constance had never expected. She often asked of how their lives outside of duties were. She seem very lonely to Constance to be honest. She had many friends at the palace so Constance didn’t know what to make of it. She thought that perhaps the Queen had few she could trust. She wasn’t a ruler to be manipulated though. Constance honestly felt France was safer in her hands than even the King’s. 

Of course they had still had their critics, probably always would. They had heard many reasons why they shouldn’t be wearing their swords and playing at solider. They had gotten many more when Constance had made herself pants to wear on duty. Dresses weren’t practical and she had sworn never to wear them again in the heat of battle. She decided dresses were still fine for her time off though. She had made her pants out of the same material she had made her dresses out of so they looked feminine enough for her taste. Fleur had quickly begged for a pair herself. It might have started a small fad in fact since she had seen a lady or two at court in the style later. 

And now she had her pauldron as well. She really must look like a Musketeer. The King continued calling them the Queen’s Musketeers after all, maybe they were. 

She turned back to Athos having just thought of something, “Speaking of rumors, I heard you have been keep up correspondence with Ninon.”

She smiled as Athos ducked his head a little cursing Aramis under his breath. “I sent her a thank you letter as you suggested.”

“And?”

“She sent me a reply asking to hear news of your and Fleur’s progress as the Queen’s guards as well as relating a humorous story about a girl who brought a goat to school with her.”

“That’s good, she asked you to keep writing her!” Constance laughed pleased that Athos had finally taken her advice. She wanted to see him happy. She wanted him to stop being afraid of being happy. She knew it was difficult but she also knew how important it was.

She made him tell her the entire story of the goat which she almost couldn’t believe. It had followed the girl to school and since it would take too long for her to take the poor thing back home, Ninon had let it stay. That had resulted in two girls getting their pigtails eaten off and some homework being eaten as well.

She almost couldn’t breathe by the end of the story. When suddenly a shot rang out and a shout was heard. Quickly they ran in the direction of the shot. Constance called out to no one in particular, “Can’t we just have one garden party without incident.”

“No, garden parties have an exceptional high incident rating,” Athos replied.

“I should think they would stop having them,” Fleur said whipping her pistol out and taken aim. 

Her shot fired and the man fell down as Aramis add cheeky, “Oh but then how would we have our fun?”

They still had to catch the other man they had seen, no one paused their steps and Constance couldn’t help grinning as she continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this story, and for leaving kudos and comments. This story is over, but i might write in this universe again.


End file.
